


the thin line between love and hate

by goreyer



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, I don't really know what this is, Idiots in Love, Kinda, M/M, i just love them ok, they're dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goreyer/pseuds/goreyer
Summary: julian and presnel don't get on. until they do.





	the thin line between love and hate

Julian closed his eyes with an exhausted sigh as he slouched against the hand-rail of the elevator. He didn't hate the training camps that PSG organised as part of their pre-season preparations, quite the contrary in fact, but it without fail meant early starts, and Julian hadn't woken up before 11am in weeks. 6am wasn't a welcome change to his routine. He knew he'd lose his tiredness when he actually started playing football, but still, he hated the grogginess that was building up in his head. He would've given anything to still be back in his bed, wrapped comfortably under his very large duvet and not instead to be awake before the sun had even risen properly. 

His eyes felt heavy as he opened them again, and there was a very good chance he would've kept them closed for the entire elevator ride had it not been for a loud clatter of steps outside the doors that signalled someone was trying to catch the elevator doors before they closed. Julian, because he was feeling nice for once (and definitely not because he misread the buttons) decided to press the button that opened the doors instead of the one that closed them. A very out of breath Presnel Kimpembe flew through the doors and Julian instantly wished his eyes hadn't played tricks on him when he was choosing which button to press. 

Hate was a very strong word; Julian didn't hate a lot of things because that word was reserved for the worst of the worst. But there were quite a lot of things that Julian very nearly hated, and Presnel Kimpembe was one of them. He was too loud, too happy, too bubbly and never,  _ever_ knew when to shut up. When he was around, Julian always had a headache and was never able to catch a moment of peace. Sure, he maintained a civil relationship with the Frenchman on camera and in public, but Julian wouldn't be caught dead hanging around with him voluntarily, not even if the club gave him a salary raise. It was difficult at times to play nice, and Presnel hardly helped - having a face that looked like Julian had just murdered his entire family whenever they were together - but no one had seemed to catch on yet, thankfully. 

Julian's face must've dropped significantly because Presnel smirked arrogantly, "aw, c'mon babe, not happy to see me?" 

He also had a stupid habit of calling Julian 'babe', of all the childish nicknames. It had started during a YouTube video on the Champions League channel, when Presnel was asked what his nickname for Julian was, and a slip of the tongue as well as most likely his lack of sound knowledge of the English language causing him to say 'babe' instead of 'baby' as Julian was referred to by a lot of his teammates. The horror on Julian's face in the moment and the anger he expressed afterwards was enough for Presnel to hold the nickname over him ever since. Some people online had even took it upon themselves to think that it was a term of endearment between the two, and Julian would like to forget how many times he had seen the term 'Draxembe' circulating the internet.

"Shut up." Julian replied, "I'm too tired for you right now."

Presnel chuckled inwardly and pulled out his phone, clearly just as eager to ignore Julian as Julian was to ignore him. Julian guessed he was tired too, because Presnel Kimpembe would never just obey a request to shut up unless the request was from a member of the team much older than him. But the German wasn't going to complain at the promise of a delay of his inevitable headache if he was to be spending more time with Presnel today, so he too turned his attention to his phone in his back pocket and looked everywhere in the small room but the face of his teammate. 

"Is this thing broken or something?" Presnel scoffed and Julian's hope of a silent journey was shattered.

"I don't know, Presnel, how am I meant to know if your phone is broken when I'm standing over here?" Julian bit back, not even gracing the Frenchman with eye contact.

"Not my phone idiot, the elevator." Presnel's words caused Julian's gaze to rise slowly from where they were locked on his screen. "We haven't moved yet."

Julian had to admit, it was strange how long they had been stationary inside the lift for. He had taken the very same elevator the previous evening to get back up to his room after dinner and it was definitely on its way much faster than this one. He wasn't one to be afraid of something like being trapped in an elevator: it just felt pointless to get all worked up about it when the authorities could get them out quickly if anything went wrong. The thing he was scared about though, was being trapped in an elevator with  _Presnel_. Julian didn't know if he was going to be able to cope with it; just him and Presnel's cacophonous voice bouncing off the walls of the small room. It made his ears ring just thinking about it.

"Still, I'm not an elevator technician, I don't kn-" Julian began, but his voice faltered when the lights in the elevator cut off, leaving Julian unable to even see his own hands in front of him. 

Presnel switched his phone torch on and sighed, "well shit. That doesn't seem good." 

Julian grumbled to himself and used his own phone to text the team groupchat,

 **Julian :** hey anyone know what's going on? i'm trapped in the elevator and the lights just went out

 **Neymar :** hahahahah that's kinda funny

 **Thiago Silva :** it's not really that funny

 **Thiago Silva :** think there's a power outage, none of the lights are working in the hotel 

 **Julian :** great.

 **Thilo :** don't worry Drax, I'm sure they'll fix it asap

 **Thilo :** we'll keep you updated if they say anything :)

"They're saying there's a power cut." Julian said to Presnel, who was flashing his phone torch around the room as if looking for an escape route.

Presnel groaned, "great. We're gonna be in here for ages."

"Well if you didn't run into the elevator I'd have already been down there and we both wouldn't be in this situation." said Julian, pushing off from the hand-rail and pacing up and down the room.

"Don't turn this into an argument, babe."

If it was any other situation, Julian would've made an annoyed comment over the nickname, but he wasn't in the mood. The last thing he wanted was for him and Presnel to be going at each others throats in such a small place, it would only end in one of them getting hurt. So he kept his mouth shut and continued his pacing, hoping it helped kill time until he could get the hell out of there.

"Why're you pacing, babe? Scared of the dark?" Presnel jibed, Julian could hear the annoying, bright smile in his voice.

Julian stopped pacing and instead paused, looking directly at Presnel, "no, I'm not scared of the dark. And stop calling me that."

The Frenchman let out a giggle and Julian could see the glint of cheek in his eyes, or maybe it was just the glare from his torch. You never really knew with Presnel. Without another second wasted, the room was plunged back into darkness, with the light from Presnel's phone torch being switched off. Julian let out an audible sigh. He really, really wasn't in the mood.

The light flashed again and Presnel appeared before his eyes, before disappearing just as quick, this time taking Julian's phone out of his hands as the light dimmed.

"What the fuck, Presnel? Give it back." Julian snapped, flailing his arms around in front of him to try and latch onto the Frenchman, but no matter how hard he tried, his hands never made contact, he was simply fishing around in darkness to no avail. He didn't want to admit the slight feeling of fear that was growing in his stomach, especially not to Presnel. He'd never hear the end of it.

"You said you weren't afraid of the dark. This shouldn't be a problem for you, clearly." 

Julian whipped his head around to follow the voice, it was to his left and to his right all at once; the echoing of the room not helping him in trying to detect his teammate. He knew Presnel was childish, but he didn't know he was  _this_ childish. They were stuck in an elevator and the first thing he decided to do was try and prove his own stupid point as opposed to acting mature until help arrived. Julian let out a strained groan and flapped around some more, hoping he would make contact at least some part of the Frenchmen soon. He did so for a good couple of minutes before giving up - how Presnel was staying out of his reach for so long was strange, Julian thought he had covered every inch of the room and yet had come up empty handed. The fear in his stomach rose and bit at his throat, choking him until he stifled out a quiet "Presnel?" into the darkness. He wasn't scared, just curious as to the whereabouts of his teammate - as any player would be in his situation.

A strong pair of hands suddenly gripped Julian's waist from behind, accompanied by a loud shriek that couldn't have been more than a couple inches away from his ear and that was all it took for Julian to scream (as much as he would like to deny it) and flinch so violently he thought he could've broken through the wall to the side of him had he just been a tad bit closer. Presnel broke out into fits of laughter behind him and Julian was glad for the darkness so that the flushes of embarrassment couldn't be seen painting his cheeks. 

"You scream like a girl, babe! You should've heard yourself, hilarious!" Presnel said in between laughs, and once again, Julian could sense the smile on his face.

Julian's eyebrows furrowed angrily and he turned around rapidly, once again reaching out in search of the Frenchman and this time making contact; it felt like his arms so Julian tightened his grip and slammed him up against the wall to his right. After some moments of struggling, Presnel fell limp in his grip, which was strange, because there was no way the German was anywhere near as strong as him. But Julian didn't question it. He moved his hands up and located a phone in Presnel's hand which he turned on to shine some light onto the Frenchman's face. 

"Fuck you. Why do you have to be so immature all the damn time!" Julian hissed once Presnel's face was illuminated. It was plastered with a grin, one that caused his eyes to crinkle at the corners and sparkle too. His lips were almost permanently drawn into this state, tilted upwards until they force his cheeks up into balls underneath his eyes. Julian wondered if it hurt to constantly have such a genuine smile on his face. 

Presnel wriggled his hand out of Julian's grip momentarily and flicked a strand of hair off the German's forehead before returning it, "relax, babe."

Julian ground his teeth together and dropped his gaze to the floor - staying angry at Presnel was for some reason becoming increasingly hard when staring directly at his stupidly happy face. Julian knew he shouldn't be second guessing himself. He had the man that had made his life, not quite hell, but damn well near it, at his mercy; with wrists slammed up against the wall and Julian's body an un-moving barrier between him and safety. Sure, if Presnel actually put up a fight, Julian would be tackled to the floor in a heartbeat, but he wasn't. So why wasn't Julian doing anything? 

Why was he studying his smile and the way his eyes crinkled like some love-sick idiot? It made him furious at not only himself, but Presnel for having such an annoying face that you couldn't get mad at. Julian looked up at it again and found the same smile-crinkled eyes staring back at him. He knew at that moment that Presnel's eyes really did just sparkle naturally, phone torch be damned. They sparkled like all the best things in life: trophies, new cars, watches, but this sparkle was something  _better_ and Julian was hating himself more and more every second because he wasn't moving his eyes away from the sight. If anything, he was studying them more intently, if that was even possible. He could see his own reflection in them, his eyes were unblinking and mouth slightly parted like he was infatuated, like he was a kid in a candy shop, looking at all the endless possibilities of sweets he could buy. But this wasn't a candy shop, and there weren't endless possibilities of things he could buy, there was only one thing that was making him stare in that awe-struck way and it was the most stupid thing in the world - the eyes of Presnel Kimpembe.

Julian didn't know what he was doing. Well, of course he was aware of what he was doing, because he could see the reflection of himself in Presnel's eyes and observe it growing closer, but he had no idea why he was doing it or what he was thinking that made him think it was a good idea. There was no possible reason why it was a good idea, and yet there he was, leaning in to kiss his teammate and person he disliked most on the team. 

The first touch of lips was like a wake-up call, and Julian snatched himself away as fast as he could, heart racing in his throat.

"What the fuck did I just do? What the fuck, what the fuck-" He slackened his grip on Presnel's wrists but didn't let go entirely, still frozen to the spot as if his actions had shocked him into a state of paralysis.

Presnel stood in silence, either unfazed by the encounter, or too disgusted to speak to him, and Julian wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.

"I hate you. Well, not hate, but you know. Why did I do that?" Julian queried to the Frenchman, though neither expecting nor wanting a response.

When he felt less like he wanted the ground to swallow him up, Julian raised his eyes to the face of the man in front of him and was simply shaken to find it unchanged. His smile was still stupidly painted oh-so-perfectly on his face, perhaps even more raised up to the outer corners of his eyes that were definitely more crinkled than they were before and by God the sparkle. Julian was star-struck. He was so pathetically star-struck. He hadn't felt like this since playing against Messi, and now he was feeling it when looking at Presnel Kimpembe. The person who calls him 'babe' out of spite. 

He didn't even get a response. Presnel just continued to look at him, as if waiting for Julian to make the next move. And Julian would do just that, if he actually knew himself what his next move was. He knew the most logical thing to do was to turn away and act like nothing had ever happened and just wait out until the elevator opened, but Julian was dumb. Very dumb. He only had to take one look at Presnel's stupidly perfect face, and his mind was made up. 

He dove forward and pressed his lips down atop Presnel's, revelling at the shock-wave the first touch of lips caused him instead of jumping away from it. A breathy laugh passed Presnel's lips and he pushed forwards towards Julian, chasing his lips until they parted to let him in. 

It was uncharted territory for Julian, how on earth he had found himself kissing another man, let alone his teammate, was shocking in and of itself, but he followed his instinct, and all it was telling him was for him to keep kissing until there was no breath left in his body. He didn't want to waste a single second where his lips weren't on Presnel's and that was ridiculous for him to think about, but frankly, in that moment his mind wasn't thinking about anything other than the Frenchman he was locking lips with. His scent was the only thing passing through his nostrils, the soft sighs escaping his lips the only thing he could hear, his skin the only thing he could feel under his fingertips and his lips the only thing he could taste and by God was Julian hooked on all of it.

Presnel had seemingly had enough of playing it cool and fought his wrists free, placing one on the small of Julian's back and the other on his neck, using it to manoeuvre Julian's head in any way he wanted to take control of the kiss. Julian smiled against the feeling of contact and allowed himself to be twisted this way and that; anything to chase the lips that were tasting better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Not once did he stop to think about what he was doing, it was irrelevant. 

Presnel's lips slipped off Julian's and he was about to whimper in complaint until they were returned onto his jaw, then his chin, then down his neck and on every part of exposed skin he could reach. Julian's breath was rapid and with anyone else he would've felt embarrassed by the noises he was making, but the soft yet commanding pecks were driving him to near insanity - he wanted so much more but knew he had to settle for so much less. 

Julian had lost track of his hands whilst in the throes of kissing, and found one locked in Presnel's hair and the other steadying him against the back wall - something that was probably wise considering the slow movements being applied to the small of his back were beginning to make his legs jittery with adrenaline. He knew they should stop, they had to, but Julian didn't want to. He instead just tugged harder on his teammates hair and revelled in the low groan he heard in the back of Presnel's throat. 

As if fate had heard his thoughts, the lights flashed on in the room and Julian - rather reluctantly - retracted his lips from Presnel's, gasping to try and return the air into his lungs. His teammate wasn't much better off, with his breath not yet regular.

"Hi, sorry for that. We experienced a short power cut but we should have you on the move now." A voice sounded through the intercom of the elevator and Julian couldn't tell if he was relieved or annoyed.

The elevator shook into motion and a moment of silence passed before Julian spoke up,

"Why did I do that? Or, well, why did  _we_ do that." He murmured, as if afraid someone was listening into them, "we hate each other."

Presnel chuckled and ruffled a hand through Julian's hair, "you see, babe, there's a very fine line between love and hate. It's not hard to confuse one with the other."

 


End file.
